I grew up in a community that has high regards for the deities and traditions of the land. There are a lot of rituals that, when being carried out, certain people are not to have a sight of, and we, the villagers, hold this in high esteem.
If a person violates the law, the person will be fined hugely to appease the gods.
There's a particular masquerade that, whenever it's passing, ladies are not supposed to set their eyes on it; if they do, they'll carry a cause of barrenness from the spirit of masquerade. This became so familiar to us that whenever such a masquerade is parading, we the guys will be outside watching while telling the ladies to hide very well inside the room for them not to set their eyes on the masquerade.
Although, if a lady sees it by mistake, there's room for instant pleasing with a little sum of money to the masqueraders on the spot.
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During December when Christmas was fast approaching, we had a visitor, aunty Ngozi who just finished her second semester exam in her school and decided to head straight to our house to spend three to four days to unwind before travelling to her own village for Christmas.
That particular day that she dropped, we heard people shouting and sounding alarm that a masquerade was approaching,
"masquerade oo! masquerade oo!"
Upon hearing this, all the females around took off and ran inside to hide.
"Which side are they coming from?" I asked the people shouting.
"From the back," one of them answered, pointing his right hand in the direction.
My female siblings had already run inside, but to my surprise, Aunty Nzogi was standing at the door looking at what was happening outside.
"Please go and meet them inside; you know ladies are not supposed to see this masquerade," I told her, and she grinned her face as a way of telling me that she's not going inside.
I thought she was joking, so I removed my face and kept watching out for the masquarade to dance to our space, and within a short time, they appeared—a very big masquarade with three heffty guys, with native chalk drawn on their visible muscular chests, beating local drums and dancing along to the sound of the drum.
When I turned back, I saw Aunty Ngozi at my back, watching him.
"Aunty!" I screamed loudly out of surprise.
She frowned her face towards me and said, "Oga, calm down. I know ladies are not permitted to watch them, but have you thought if what they say about the repercussions is real or fake? I don't believe it, that's why I'm watching. We all have our **differences**; the repercussions will work on the people who believe, while they won't work on me."
I was dumbfounded upon hearing that.
The men following the masquerade saw her, and they smiled, and I know the reason for their smile, which means *food is ready for them*.
I didn't want to give chances at all. I dug my hand into my trousers pocket and brought out 500 naira. I rushed to the masqueraders to clear off the taboo on the spot, but these people refused to collect the money from me.
"She came out willingly to see us. This 500 naira would have settled it if she saw us by mistake." One of them said.
I stood on that spot and watched them dance away.
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I turned back with anger written all over my face. I couldn't shout at her because she's older than me; I just walked past her into my room.
By then, my siblings that went into hiding had already come out and were aware of the situation. Aunty Ngozi wasn't feeling it at all; she was still bent on her difference, on what she believes and what we believe.
When my dad returned in the night, we explained things to him, and he queried her for such an act, but she didn't feel it because, after all, she had fulfilled herself.
She travelled back to her village after three days with us, and my dad had to go and appease the masqueraders with a better offer.
Well, nothing happened to her till today, maybe that's because my dad appeased the gods of the masquerade after she left.
Some of these traditions are just fictional and it is possible that nothing happened to her because she did not believe in such.
It is good that some cultures and traditions are going through refinements to eliminate some of these so called repercussions
You’ve done a remarkable job here; you’ve woven superstition and common sense into your tale and you do not “decide” which one wins. That’s very clever and makes for an intriguing read. Well done!
Interesting read 😊. These rituals are still very much alive. I would say it should be refined but I choose to hold on the it as it is....